“Hey, Denise?” Nick, one of her employees, called from the reception door.

“Yeah?” She closed the kennel door and took the leash to hang up on the pegs along the wall.

“I just got a call from the county shelter that there’s an abandoned dog. They think it might have been hit by a car. They’re full.”

Shit. That was their code for “the dog will be euthanized if we get it.” She glanced at the clock. There was no way she’d have time to go get a dog, bring it back here, and make it home in time to meet the school bus.

Damn it. She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. They needed to hire more people. She’d cut back on her afternoon hours to be home for Kimber and Kaden, but everything in the rescue was starting to back up.

“Do you need me to go get it?”

She dropped her hands. “You’d do that?”

Nick pushed through the door and walked toward her. “Sure, why not?”

“It’s not something you normally do.”

He shrugged and crossed his arms. “It’s true, you’ve always picked up any dogs we get calls for, but you also lived here and had no life.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much.

“You’ve got a family now. They should be your priority.”

“You don’t mind?” she asked.

“Not at all. Should I bring it back here or straight to Doc Abbie?”

Normally, she made that call, but it was time she release the stranglehold she had on every facet of her life. “Make the call when you see the dog.”

He stood up straighter. “Really?”

Jeez, had she really been that much of a control freak? “Yeah. I trust your judgment. Just call Doc Abbie’s office first so they know you’re coming.”

“Wow. Yeah. I will. Is there anything special I should take?”

She helped him pack a kit with the equipment she normally took with her on pick-ups. After he left, she looked through the appointment schedule to see whether anyone needed to be rescheduled. It meant more back-to-back appointments the rest of the week, but it couldn’t be helped.

Note to self: look through all the office manager applications tonight.

Rubbing the center of her forehead again, she sighed. She’d work with a couple of the dogs she absolutely had to, clean the kennels, feed everyone, and hopefully get out of there on time.

After rescheduling her clients, she glanced down at Sprocket. “You staying here or coming with me to the barn?”

The dog raised her head, groaned, and laid it back down again.

“I don’t think so.” She bent and patted her on the side, scratching the base of her tail for good measure. “You’ve done nothing all day but lay around. You can walk your lazy butt over to the barn with me and lay down over there. Come on.”

Sprocket lumbered to her feet, a low whine protesting the effort.

“Whatever.”

Her phone pinged as they crossed the yard.

Chris: Busy?

That’s rhetorical, right?

A few seconds later, her phone rang, Chris’s name flashing across the screen.

“So, that’s a yes?”

“Yeah, that’s a yes.”

“What’s going on?”

She lifted the latch on the barn door and stepped through, leaving it open for Sprocket to follow.

“Well, Nick had to go get a dog so I had to reschedule all my afternoon appointments so I can take care of everything and still get out of here in time to pick up the kids.” She tucked the phone into her shoulder to grab the stack of metal food bowls in what used to be the tack room, now used to store food and equipment.

“Who else is there?” Chris asked.

“Just me.”

Sprocket began barking from the main area of the barn. Denise turned in that direction as if she could see through the wall at what had set her off.

“What do you mean, just you?” Chris asked.

The phone beeped in her ear. For fuck’s sake. She pulled it away to see who was calling.

“Hang on, the school is calling.”

“Denise—”

She switched lines. “Hello?”

“Hello. Ms. Reynolds?”

“Yes.”

“This is Alicia from the front office of Springer Elementary.”

The barking had grown louder with several other dogs joining Sprocket and she closed the door to the tack room. She’d find out what set them off after the call.

“Yes?” An acrid smell permeated the air and she twitched her nose to get rid of the itch it caused. What is that?

“We’d like to know if Kimber and Kaden will be returning to school after their dental appointment.”

Her gut contracted. “What do you mean return to school? They should be at school now.”

“No, ma’am. Their father signed them out for their dental appointment before lunch.”

She dropped the bowls, the clatter of them hitting the concrete floor adding to the cacophony of the dogs’ barking.

“There’s a no-contact court order against their father, who is a wanted felon, so would you mind explaining to me how the fuck he signed them out of school?” she shouted.

No. No. No. This is not happening. Adrenaline and a heavy dose of fear coursed through her.

“I—”

“Fuck!” Her skin tightened as goose bumps rose from every pore of her body. Her vision narrowed, then expanded.

She switched back to Chris and wrenched open the tack room door.

“Chris—” Smoke billowed around her and she coughed as it wrapped around her head.

Every dog was barking or howling. Sprocket stood in front of the now closed barn door, snarling and barking.

“Denise!”

“I’m here. He took the kids. The barn’s on fire.”

Thick, black, oily smoke billowed up from the bottom of the door. Flames danced and crackled within the smoke, reaching halfway up the wall. A quick glance at the other end of the barn showed a similar situation, although the fire hadn’t progressed as much.

That old barn’s probably got some really dry wood.

Fucking Eddie.

No fire or smoke was visible from the sides of the barn. Probably because the chain link enclosures kept out whatever asshole had started the fire.

“Where are you?” Chris asked.

“In the barn. Sprocket, come.” Hackles raised and a snarl still played at her mouth but the dog obeyed.

“Fucking hell.”

“Pretty much.” She went back into the tack room.

“Why are you so calm?”

She tossed storage containers off the shelf, looking for the one that held the promotional merchandise. “Would you rather I be hysterical, suck in a bunch of smoke, and pass out? I don’t really have time for that right now.”

“Son of a bitch. I’m fifteen minutes away.”

“How are you fifteen minutes away?” In a shoe box-sized container she found the I heart Wiggle Butts bandanas she’d had made for an adoption event and grabbed two.

“I was already on my way. Fire department is on the way as well and I’ve got a team working on the kids.”

He must have radioed it in. At least that was one less thing she had to do.

“Gotta go. Gotta get the dogs out of the barn.”

“Get yourself out, Denise.” His voice was strained and rose at the end, as if he was suppressing his desire to shout at her.

“Yup. That, too.” She ended the call and jammed the phone into her back pocket. Wetting the bandana in the utility sink, she tied one around her hair and one around her face. Some goggles would have been nice, but all she had were shooting glasses and those wouldn't stop the smoke from reaching her eyes.

She considered using the water hose to wet down the doors, but the color and thickness of the smoke made her think they’d doused the wood with some kind of fuel. Pouring water on it would only spread it faster.

She needed to get the dogs closest to the fire out first. Opening the door to the first stall, she shoved the small pit bull mix away from the dog door leading to the enclosed outside pen. The frantic dog was trying to dig its way out through the concrete floor.

Lifting the hasp, she slid the bolt back. The dog ran out into the pen when she threw the door wide. If she could—

A crack rent the air, followed by a sharp bark and whimper.

No. No. No. She took a step back and bent at the waist to look out the small door. The dog lay on its side, a dark spot growing on its hip.

Motherfucker shot one of her dogs.

“God damn it!”

She stood and laced her hands on top of her head. Panic loomed, threatening to steal her breath and her resolve.

Think, Reynolds. Think.

Turning in a circle she looked for another way out. She had to get the dogs and herself out safely, but to do that she had to remove the threat outside. Closing her eyes, she dropped her head back. Sprocket lay down on her feet and whined. Whether from the smoke or from the defeat that crept around the edges of her mind, tears formed in the corners of her eyes.

She snapped them open and stared at the empty hayloft above her.

Higher ground.

Dogs first. She hurried to open all the stall doors. Some of the dogs burst out and milled around in the center of the barn while others cowered in the corners of their stalls. She didn’t have time to coax them out.

A vertical wooden ladder led up to one of the haylofts that ran the length of both sides of the barn. If there was more than one person out there, they’d be set up on either side of the building, waiting for her try to escape. Maybe they thought the dog had been her. Maybe it was a warning. If it was only one shooter, they’d probably circle around, assuming she’d try the other side.

She paused halfway up the ladder and glanced over her shoulder at the matching ladder across the aisle. Unless they thought she’d assume that and would try again on the same side, instead of crossing over.

Sprocket barked at her from the base of the ladder.

“You’re right.” She climbed the last few rungs. “They aren’t that smart.”

Stepping onto the loft’s plywood platform, she moved directly to the closest of four large windows. Most of them had been replaced when they refurbished the barn and they’d opted for wooden doors instead of glass.

Pulling her Glock from the low-profile holster, she lifted the window latch up, careful not to let the door swing open. Opening it enough to scan the area around the barn, she couldn’t see anyone near the end of the barn.

Would they expect her to try the middle of the barn, away from the fires?

She closed the window and latched it, moving to the second window. Easing it open, she crouched to the side to get a better view. Dark smoke filled the air and she could feel the heat at her back as the flames climbed higher.

She was running out of time.

Glancing at the other side of the building, she almost missed the guy in black with a rifle move from behind a tree at the edge of the field.

She dropped to a knee and her supporting foot kept the door from swinging open. He ran across the field, making no effort to hide his movements. Either he wasn’t worried about getting caught or he was getting the hell out of dodge.

Adjusting for elevation to hit center mass, she inhaled and paused, fighting the cough that threatened. She paused again at the bottom of her exhale and squeezed the trigger. A coughing fit overtook her, but she kept her gun aimed at the man she’d just shot.

She counted ten very long seconds to see if he would move before dashing to the ladder. Holstering her weapon, she slid most of the way down, wincing as the splinters dug into her palm.

Sprocket sat at the bottom of the ladder, howling.

Denise ran to the tack room and grabbed a set of bolt cutters plus several leashes from hooks on a wall. Racing back to the center stall on the same side she’d fired from, she tried to herd as many dogs as possible into the stall.

She threw open the dog door and several attempted to squeeze through at once. Palming her gun again, she shoved two out of the way and took her chances as she crawled through the opening, pulling the cutters and leashes with her. Staying on a knee, she raised her Glock and scanned the area.

Nothing, and no one, moved. She holstered her gun, draped the leashes around her neck, and picked up the cutters. Duck walking to the back fence, she cut the horizontal retaining wires in the chain link. Dropping the cutters, she clipped two leashes to the bottom of the fence, threw the ends over the top bar and used it as a pulley to lift the bottom of the fence, creating an opening for the dogs.

Once one dog realized there was a way out, they all spilled through, almost knocking her to her ass in the process. She tied off the leashes to make sure the fence remained open.

She glanced toward where the body was and back at the barn. Damn it. She needed to make sure all the dogs were out. Taking a bracing breath, she crawled back into the barn. Three dogs had to be picked up and carried to the escape route stall and shoved through the door and she earned a few bites for her efforts.

Crawling through after the last dog, she stayed on all fours, panting for breath. Sprocket licked her face and head-butted her shoulder, urging her to move. The faint wail of sirens reached her and she pushed to her feet. There was one more thing she needed to do before the cavalry arrived.

She low crawled under the fence and pushed back to her feet, stumbling toward the body in the field.

If he was still alive, he was going to wish he’d died from the gunshot.

Because she still had to find her kids.